


The Act of Letting Go

by mad_top_hatter



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Greed is welcome to my titties, I'm emo as hell, Still kind of follows the story???, like it's canon compliant to episode 29 then i do what i want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-01-05 21:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_top_hatter/pseuds/mad_top_hatter
Summary: It was like something bubbling beneath his skin, threatening to surface at any point. Greed tried to dismiss it, but he can only push away something so integral to his own being for so longA sort of AU where Greed remembers his past memories sooner rather than later.





	1. What Can't Be Lost

Ed’s desperate scream was the last thing Ling heard before the world around him was enveloped in white. As soon as he registered what was happening, a dark red bled into the void-like area that surrounded him. Then, Ling was falling as blurs of red sped by him. He let out gasps of air whenever one painfully collided with his stomach or back, sending him tumbling.

                The thought of death existed in the corner of his mind as the onslaught of faces continued barraging him, but the image of Lan-Fan repelled his fear. He couldn’t die here—he had no right to, not after what Lan Fan did to ensure his own safety. Somehow, he managed to regain his balance as the faces—no, human souls, stopped colliding with him. Before he could process anything, a laugh broke out.

                “Am I really supposed to use this little brat?”

-

                Greed couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face as the bandage unraveled from his hand, revealing his tattoo. It felt good to be alive, and while the body wasn’t exactly what Greed had in mind, the kid he stole it from proved to be entertaining. He already felt his philosopher’s stone working to heal already sustained wounds—damn, the kid had definitely seen his fair share of fights.  He had been so eager to accept Greed, too. Of course there could have been better options for Greed’s own container, but the opposite was also true.

                “Then, you’re not Ling?”

                Right. That was the most troublesome thing with taking over someone’s body—their past would cling to their body even if that person was gone. While Greed could feel Ling’s consciousness within the plethora of souls, the kid most likely soon be drowned out by them regardless of how determined he was.

                Greed shifted his focus towards the pinned down kid. He had some questions about the suit of armor next to him but held his tongue, returning his focus back to the blonde kid—a previous friend of “Ling”, apparently. For some reason the kid looked familiar, his existence at the tip of Greed’s tongue, yet it never left its position there. He dismissed it as Ling’s memories conflicting with his own perception.

                “You’re lying! Ling would never give himself up so easily!”

                A smirk worked its way onto Greed’s face. He almost wanted to give the kid a little lesson on his own personal standards and how he never told lies, but for some reason, Greed felt like he’d see the kid again.

-

 

                It just so happened Greed had underestimated the Xingese Prince. Not only had the kid maintained his integrity amongst the souls, the brat demanded a request from the homunculus. Not just one request, but two; Ling wanted control long enough that he could write out a message, and then have Greed deliver it to the runt and armored kid from earlier. That led to a bit of an argument

_“It’s an important message, Greed. Just give me control for a minute or two.”_

                Greed scoffed. He’d taken to scouring the streets of Amestris after dealing with the previous skirmish in Father’s lair—fresh air was important. Yet, it was less refreshing when the same person kept talking inside his head. What a pain.

                “Important for you, not for me. Besides, if I hand you the wheel, you wouldn’t easily give up control.”

                _“Are you implying that you wouldn’t be able to regain control? You, a homunculus?”_

                Greed gave the kid exactly one minute to write the message.

-

                Once again, the blonde brat accused Greed of dishonesty. Jeez, all he was doing was complying with Ling’s request of delivering the message the prince wrote. As soon as he handed over the inscribed cloth, Ed gave him an untrusting glare, his eyebrows furrowing in suspicion as he glanced between the message and Greed.

                “If you follow us and try to kill her-“

                Greed rolled his eyes, and rested a hand on his hip. “I’ve got more class than that, alright? As a rule of thumb, I don’t fight women.”

                The words themselves rolled easily of Greed’s tongue—it was just natural for him to say such a thing. Yet, as soon as they left his mouth, a strange taste lingered on his tongue. It was like déjà vu, as if it wasn’t the first time he’d said such a thing within Ed’s proximity. It was unnerving, but Greed did his best to dismiss it. Even if Ed had met the previous Greed, the current incarnation had no connection to the homunculus. Those memories had been purged out of the stone for a good reason.

                Greed could feel Ling’s own presence within the corners of his skull, as if the prince could sense the uneasiness. He imagined Ling’s face—a concentrated look as he tried to pick apart the inner workings of Greed’s mind in response to Greed’s conflicting emotions. It pissed him off.

                -

                It felt like something was bubbling beneath Greed’s skin, as if something was threatening to resurface. The nerves in his hands jittered about, causing Greed to clutch the fabric of his pants while he watched the streets of Amestris below his perch on Central Command. He had no duties yet from Father, so Greed tried to ease the squeezing feeling in his stomach by relaxing. It wasn’t proving to be efficient. Then again, trying to relax in privacy was an impossible feat when one was sharing a body.

 _“So, what exactly are you even planning to do?”_ asked Ling.

Greed let out a sigh. He wasn’t in the mood for conversing, but it wasn’t exactly easy to ignore someone he shared a vessel with.

                “Nothing for now. Pops will give me an assignment sooner or later.”

                _“And you’re just going to do whatever he says? How can you boast about your standards and class and then be a loyal puppet to someone like him?”_

Greed dug deeper into the fabric of his pants, clenched fingers grabbing onto it. His eyebrows furrowed in agitation while his body tensed, trying to keep composure despite his irritation. “Kid, you can say whatever you want. But I wouldn’t spout about independence when you willing gave up your body to someone like me.”

                Before their conversation could continue, Greed’s attention shifted to the newcomer on the roof—an imposing presence Greed assumed was Wrath. Sure as hell wasn’t Lust. Despite being his sibling, Greed couldn’t help the abrupt surge of animosity that coursed through his veins at the sight of the man’s face. He tried to shove down the sudden hostility—Greed could already tell the man wasn’t someone he wanted to cross.

                So, he engaged in a dull conversation with the man, even sharing a laugh when Ling unexpectedly took control of Greed’s body. Having control taken from him like that should have shook Greed more than it did, but damn, the shocked look on Wrath’s face was priceless. It kept a smile on Greed’s face until the former man exited the roof.

                “So, you actually clashed with Wrath and lived to tell the tale, huh?” asked Greed. If the man was named after unbridled anger, he had to be a superb fighter. Not just that, but Wrath exuded bloodthirst that Greed could just barely pick up on due to the man’s otherwise calm façade.

                _“That’s the name he goes by? The leader of this land named for his anger?—how awful.”_

                Greed tilted his head, rubbing the back of it with his hand. “Right, I’m sure most of the humans call him by another name.”

_“Fuhrer King Bradley”_

Greed opened his mouth to comment, to make a jest at the name but something clicked inside his mind. He knew that name—he heard it before. He had no desire to delve within the depths of his mind to try and solve the mystery, but his mind started the search all on its own. It searched furiously until Greed remembers something—the sensation of steel piercing his neck as swords crisscrossed inside his throat. The barely audible sound of an eyepatch falling into the dirty water of the underground. The eye marred with the symbol of the ouroboros never breaking contact with Greed’s eyes as the incarnation of Greed was killed again and again.

                He remembered Fuhrer King Bradley. He remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [tumblr](http://mad-top-hatter.tumblr.com/)


	2. What Can't Be Proved

Greed almost collapsed face first when he found himself out of the crowded streets of Central. The buildings behind him had faded over the horizon and were replaced with a green scenery plastered with trees. In exhaustion, his back collided harshly with the trunk of a tree before his legs gave out, sending him down to the grassy terrain. An uneasy hand made its way up to his head, his fingers spreading to completely grasp his face.

                It was as if Greed’s clenched fingers could keep his face from unravelling into a mess—as if all his emotions and confusion would spill out in their absence. It was frustrating. Greed never felt shame for his emotions—hell, he was deeply in touch with what he wanted since he was the incarnation of avarice. Yet, the unrestrained feelings jolted through his body unapologetically and Greed realized that what was unsettling was the unknown itself. Feelings of avarice was what he was accustomed to. Excessive wanting, the unavoidable need for indulgence—he could handle those. Whatever existed outside of that was something Greed did not want to face.

                _“So, you decided to go rogue after all?”_

Strange. Normally, Ling’s voice was unwelcome. It served as a reminder that despite Greed being in control, the body he inhibited wasn’t entirely his. Greed had a thing about possessions, it was in the name. Yet, the voice of the Xingese prince wasn’t entirely grating for once. Ling was still company.

                Greed’s hand slid further down his own face, his fingers tracing over the new grin that stretched to his cheeks. He stopped himself before his fingers could glide over the curve of his chin, leaving them there.

                “It might be time for my solo debut,” Greed chuckled. He removed his hand completely from his face, squinting at the sunlight that peered harshly through the tree leaves. Feeling more composed, he hoisted himself up from the ground, one outstretched arm grabbing onto the tree trunk as his eyes wondered back into the direction of Central. “If I saw Wrath again, who knows what I’d do.”

                _“So, you and the previous Greed aren’t different at all. You couldn’t have memories of someone you never met.”_

                Ling had been listening to the confusion going on between Ed and Greed when the latter had been born, it seemed. Pain in the ass.

                “You’re jumping to conclusions,” scowled Greed. He tore his attention away from the sight of Central, instead focused on continuing his departure. “My mind just got jumbled, that’s all. It’d be my end if I was surrounded by my siblings and lashed out at one of them.”

                Ling frowned.

                _“You know, there’s a thin line between dishonesty and denial.”_

-

                A sign reading “Rush Valley” loomed overhead as Greed approached the upcoming town. He had headed south from Central—his siblings were tasked with other jobs and while Greed doubted they’d bother coming after him, it was best to cover some distance. It had been a rather long walk, but Greed didn’t actually have any currency on him to buy train tickets. He’d only been alive for a day or so anyway, his quest to own everything was a work in progress.

                _“I’ve been here before. This is where I met Ed and Alphonse.”_

                Greed stopped while he walked down the main road of Rush Valley, surrounded by various shops sporting metal prosthetics similar to the ones Ed had.  There were some rather strange prosthetics as well, ones that were made to be engaged with in battle. Greed found them interesting although he’d never need one himself considering his regenerative abilities and his own ultimate shield.   His curiosity would have to be sated another day—Greed still felt too close to Central to stick around too long. He kept Ling’s words in mind as he diverged from the main road.

                “Is that so? You guys haven’t pals for too long, have you?”

                _“That’s right. Actually, when I first met the two of them, I sent my two vassals after them. Initially, I just stuck around because I thought they would led me to obtaining immortality.”_

Greed leaned on the siding of a nearby house. “To help you become Emperor of Xing, right? I appreciate your avarice, but to get meddled in a whole different country for it? It must not have been too fun.”

                Ling let out a chuckle. _“To be honest, aside from when things got hectic, I’ve had a good time in this country. I wasn’t exactly sheltered in Xing, but I was a target for assassination so I always had to be cautious. It’s nice to get away from the place you’ve been your whole life at least once. Especially when you make new bonds.”_

Greed didn’t know why a feeling of empathy arose when Ling finished. It was a mystery he wasn’t intent on solving.

-

                Greed was prompt in passing through Rush Valley. When he first arrived at the strange town, his nerves had settled for the most part. Yet, the longer Ling spoke about his companionship with Ed, Al, and two people named Lan Fan and Fu, the more Greed felt unnerved. Flashes of a fight with Wrath came and went within his mind, blurs of action and blood. They weren’t his memories, though, they couldn’t be. Those memories had been wiped from existence, whatever he saw within his mind was residual garbage. Just fragmented pieces of a puzzle that did not need completing.

                _“What’s with you, Greed? Where are we going?”_

“Don’t act irritable now. You should have done that before we left Central.”

                Greed could see Ling scowl as the thousands of souls within his body scrambled about. _“I didn’t want to get in a fight with Bradley, either. But I’m not content with you just running off with my body. Why are we heading farther south?”_

Ignoring the prince was an option, though a futile one. Ling had proven he could take back control in Greed’s weakness, even if for only a second, which was a troublesome factor. Greed wouldn’t be able to get anywhere if Ling decided to be uncooperative.

                “Look, kid. I’m not planning to walk much more, okay? I just … I just need there to be space between Wrath and me. I need these images in my skull to go away.”

                Ling rose off his haunches, a frown forming on his face. “ _Images? They’re memories, aren’t they? How foolish can you be to think something like that can be rinsed away?”_

                It wasn’t foolish, Greed reassured himself. The recollections that were trying to resurface within his mind would soon fade away to nothing. There was no space for them despite the emptiness that lingered in Greed’s own being. They wouldn’t fit, they weren’t the right size—they weren’t his memories. Those images belonged to a deceased Greed, not him.

                He repeated it mentally as he continued moving, trying his best to believe in those words as the town of Dublith appeared over the horizon.


	3. What Can't Be Saved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took forever i was watching vine comps. in all seriousness I hope to not take that long to update again lol, I'm off from school so....

            Why.

            Questioning wasn’t a part of Greed’s nature. He didn’t question the ravaging emptiness that occupied his chest—no, his only concern was to fill it. Even if he had questions, they were never aimed at himself. He was Greed the Avaricious—pondering why he did what he did was foolish. So, the word barely existed to him. Reasoning barely existed to him.

            Despite everything, that word was prominent within his mind, resting just on the tip of his tongue. Why, why, why, _why._ Greed heard the word with every step he took between the houses of Dublith, his hands clenched within the pockets of his coat and a frown pulling on his lips.

            Why did he remember this place?

            Greed thought he knew the answer. Ever since his initial recollection, courtesy of Wrath, more visions appeared within his head. Most, if not all, depicted dirty water, closed spaces, a group of people, and the sensation of being killed over and over again. He knew that the town of Dublith would soon join his fractured memories, another piece of a puzzle that Greed feared of completing. If he had forgotten everything, something must have happened to that “everything”. He wondered if it all was purged from the world, similar to how it had been purged from his own being.

            _“Are you alright?”_

            Greed recoiled, his body stiffening right as he took another step. He had been so wrapped in his thoughts he’d nearly forgotten the fact he wasn’t alone.

            “Fantastic.” The words lacked their usual bite.

            _“You’re just … wandering. Like you know where your destination is, but you’re going in every direction except the one that will lead you to it.”_

            “Hey, you’re a fucking navigator now?” chuckled Greed. “I’m just exploring this place. This entire world is my possession, after all. Nothing wrong with getting to know the goods.”

            Ling was silent for a moment. _“If you really wanted everything, you wouldn’t turn your back on the past.”_

            It was Greed’s turn to perpetuate the silence.

*

             It had been quiet since then. Something inside of Greed settled—the whirlwind of sensations that felt dangerously close to his heart had softened, even when a familiar bar came into sight. He read the title, the name “Devil’s Nest” flowing smoothly off his tongue. Resignation ached in his chest, but Greed would never admit it. He didn’t want to—even when visions of his followers manifested due to seeing the bar again. Their names slowly came back to him—Dolcetto, Roa, Martel, Bido—the whole lot of their faces were beginning to clear in his mind. Yet, their fate existed somewhere in the dark corners of his imaginations, crevices he feared to explore.

            The bar was empty—Greed had expected that much. Back during his time in the underground tunnels, he heard the commotion above him. The quietness was the most unsettling thing about the bar though, and that only grew as Greed entered the underground.

            Ling remained silent, but Greed could fell his presence like soft waves in his consciousness—the Xingese prince was there and watching, but refrained from speaking. He had been good at seeing through Greed’s bluffs to the extent that nothing else needed to be exchanged. While part of Greed disliked the stillness, he was grateful for the clarity it granted him.

            Even if that clarity only lived for a few moments.

            The underground labyrinth beneath the bar was exactly that—a labyrinth full of identical tunnels. Despite that, Greed reached a strip of the tunnel that he immediately recognized. Old blood still stained the concrete flooring but nothing else marred the tunnel. There was nothing distinct about it yet still it stood out to Greed.

            Flashes of fighting and yelling flitted through his mind, a replay of the scene that initially came to Greed upon meeting Wrath for the first time in his new body. This time, though, the scene continued.

            A shaky hand wrapped around Greed’s face as his breath came out quick but heavy. His fingers dug into his skin, as if they could soothe the pounding head ache. The rest of the scene had unfurled.

            He remembered Roa and Dolcetto arriving in the tunnels, injured but alive as they confronted Bradley despite the look of defeat in their eyes. He remembered the sound of flesh being torn as Dolcetto was brutally killed, and the splashing of water as both pieces of him crashed into the dirty water below. He remembered Roa sharing a similar fate.

            Most of all, Greed remembered the smug face he put on as he rose to fight Wrath again. The nonchalant tone of his voice as he lectured Wrath, slight restraint in his voice as he felt anger bubble within him. The way his eyes averted from the corpses of his possessions. The way he lied about them only being possessions.

            The cold ground collided with Greed’s bottom, and his hand remained grasping his face while he tried to regulate his breathing.

            _“Greed …”_

            “Just … be quiet for now, shitty prince,” growled Greed, though the subdued animosity in his voice was aimed elsewhere. At Wrath. Maybe even at himself.

            Amidst his own internal struggle, he remembered something else.

            He hadn’t seen the fate of Martel or Bido.

            Why.

            Questioning wasn’t a part of Greed’s nature. He didn’t question the ravaging emptiness that occupied his chest—no, his only concern was to fill it. Even if he had questions, they were never aimed at himself. He was Greed the Avaricious—pondering why he did what he did was foolish. So, the word barely existed to him. Reasoning barely existed to him.

            Despite everything, that word was prominent within his mind, resting just on the tip of his tongue. Why, why, why, _why._ Greed heard the word with every step he took between the houses of Dublith, his hands clenched within the pockets of his coat and a frown pulling on his lips.

            Why did he remember this place?

            Greed thought he knew the answer. Ever since his initial recollection, courtesy of Wrath, more visions appeared within his head. Most, if not all, depicted dirty water, closed spaces, a group of people, and the sensation of being killed over and over again. He knew that the town of Dublith would soon join his fractured memories, another piece of a puzzle that Greed feared of completing. If he had forgotten everything, something must have happened to that “everything”. He wondered if it all was purged from the world, similar to how it had been purged from his own being.

            _“Are you alright?”_

            Greed recoiled, his body stiffening right as he took another step. He had been so wrapped in his thoughts he’d nearly forgotten the fact he wasn’t alone.

            “Fantastic.” The words lacked their usual bite.

            _“You’re just … wandering. Like you know where your destination is, but you’re going in every direction except the one that will lead you to it.”_

            “Hey, you’re a fucking navigator now?” chuckled Greed. “I’m just exploring this place. This entire world is my possession, after all. Nothing wrong with getting to know the goods.”

            Ling was silent for a moment. _“If you really wanted everything, you wouldn’t turn your back on the past.”_

            It was Greed’s turn to perpetuate the silence.

*

             It had been quiet since then. Something inside of Greed settled—the whirlwind of sensations that felt dangerously close to his heart had softened, even when a familiar bar came into sight. He read the title, the name “Devil’s Nest” flowing smoothly off his tongue. Resignation ached in his chest, but Greed would never admit it. He didn’t want to—even when visions of his followers manifested due to seeing the bar again. Their names slowly came back to him—Dolcetto, Roa, Martel, Bido—the whole lot of their faces were beginning to clear in his mind. Yet, their fate existed somewhere in the dark corners of his imaginations, crevices he feared to explore.

            The bar was empty—Greed had expected that much. Back during his time in the underground tunnels, he heard the commotion above him. The quietness was the most unsettling thing about the bar though, and that only grew as Greed entered the underground.

            Ling remained silent, but Greed could fell his presence like soft waves in his consciousness—the Xingese prince was there and watching, but refrained from speaking. He had been good at seeing through Greed’s bluffs to the extent that nothing else needed to be exchanged. While part of Greed disliked the stillness, he was grateful for the clarity it granted him.

            Even if that clarity only lived for a few moments.

            The underground labyrinth beneath the bar was exactly that—a labyrinth full of identical tunnels. Despite that, Greed reached a strip of the tunnel that he immediately recognized. Old blood still stained the concrete flooring but nothing else marred the tunnel. There was nothing distinct about it yet still it stood out to Greed.

            Flashes of fighting and yelling flitted through his mind, a replay of the scene that initially came to Greed upon meeting Wrath for the first time in his new body. This time, though, the scene continued.

            A shaky hand wrapped around Greed’s face as his breath came out quick but heavy. His fingers dug into his skin, as if they could soothe the pounding head ache. The rest of the scene had unfurled.

            He remembered Roa and Dolcetto arriving in the tunnels, injured but alive as they confronted Bradley despite the look of defeat in their eyes. He remembered the sound of flesh being torn as Dolcetto was brutally killed, and the splashing of water as both pieces of him crashed into the dirty water below. He remembered Roa sharing a similar fate.

            Most of all, Greed remembered the smug face he put on as he rose to fight Wrath again. The nonchalant tone of his voice as he lectured Wrath, slight restraint in his voice as he felt anger bubble within him. The way his eyes averted from the corpses of his possessions. The way he lied about them only being possessions.

            The cold ground collided with Greed’s bottom, and his hand remained grasping his face while he tried to regulate his breathing.

            _“Greed …”_

            “Just … be quiet for now, shitty prince,” growled Greed, though the subdued animosity in his voice was aimed elsewhere. At Wrath. Maybe even at himself.

            Amidst his own internal struggle, he remembered something else.

            He hadn’t seen the fate of Martel or Bido.

**Author's Note:**

> check out my [tumblr](http://mad-top-hatter.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Please show appreciation if you enjoyed this, thanks!


End file.
